CHRIST(I)MiSs those MERRY holiday happenings!

A Holiday Recap. 

I remember when we'd wake up 
upon the 'bum-crack of dawn.'
our presents waiting patiently
until Santa was long gone
I knew who sampled those cookies
a 3 letter word with letter D
I never told you how often
I snuck up under the Christmas tree

Running from room to room
"Wake-up Christmas is here!"
We can now open up our presents
All filled with bubbly cheer!

In our appointed sections
wiping the crust out of our eyes
you sat, as we called names 
handed presents side by side
we always had to announce
To: WHO? From: WHO?
lean near
we still couldn't open those gifts
until wait! 'coast is clear!'

I think someone was in the kitchen 
trying to snag a morning snack
we never really did breakfast
though, once or twice way back
Finally! It's time! to devour our holiday gifts
yours were never opened, the last on Santa's list

I remember most your smile
Too bad that moments past
The jokes you made at will
no rules, just go full blast!

What soon happened now?
Oh! The pictures, the many pictures!
Go stack those gifts with glory
like a lord with his stricture
My hunger now singing songs.
the kids in fascination
the day's not over yet!
To grandma's - our final destination!
-----
In her fav blue chair, grandma sittin,' lookin' pretty
Her smile was everything!
Full of joy, oh so gitty
I think of how her light - turned 'dark nights into days'
Her spirit leaves me breathless
as I take a moment just to gaze . . . 

I also do remember 
when the arguing would begin
made grandma mad, then sad
our sibling quarrels would never end

the same ritual would proceed
like the 'morning present roar'
but there . . . a little different
with uncle by the door
he had the 'best gifts!'
each girl was looking for
that time my sister cried
we all wondered what else was in store!

Dinner! Oh blessed dinner!
Can't forget that tireless deed
we loaded bags and boxes of food 
to add to our wholesome needs
Food was not eaten without
Grandma's blessing upon the table:
the squeaky brown middle inlay,
with china from the stable

Dinner was always late,
like 6, or 7, or even 8
it closed the night in perfection
friends nettled in from other sections

I remember like it was yesterday
those moments, those memories, those times
sweet potatoes, greens, chitterlins???
Oh my god, I hated those things! 
Soon came the evening naps,
full of food, all presents unwrapped
grandma stayed at the table, 
in heavy 'life' conversation
To the TV! A Christmas movie!
Then, she would try and change the station.

Fairy Godmother and Scary Godfather!
I can't forget the 2 of you.
Your family, in itself
gave HOLIDAY full meaning.

glad we spent those times
glad we spoke today
glad you understand
on days, just -like- today

Past will always be, 
Present truths remain untold, 
Future stems from our own beliefs
I wish MERRY to my SOUL!
----

Continue to create new HOLIDAY HAPPINESS! 

Permanent or Temporary?

Address me. 

Did you know you could address me? Add that dress to the order so you can send it to me! Lots of dresses to add in my book, too many to write down. I don't know why you have that old one . . . Send it to this address please. Wait! who did you address it to? It should have been addressed to me a long time ago. I used to have an address like that one. My home address. Do you have a home address? What's your home address? Or do you have a P.O. Box? I wanted a P.O. Box but they wouldn't give it to me. I was like, 'what?' I don't understand. If I don't have an address then I can't get a P.O. Box - proposterous! It's ok. It's a P.O. Box. You'll find someone to address it to. Someday. Away. Far far way. From the madness of??? Homes. My home is my address. Address me. Did you address me? I bargained for that address, but I had so much distress. It made me sad. It made me weak. I couldn't really sleep because i had no address. Are you bored yet? You shouldn't be because you're probably sleeping pretty . . . in your bed . . . in your home . . . address. I don't like how that sounds. Address. Add. An ad. A dress. Ask me for my address. What will I tell you? I don't know. I didn't know it. It was something I always wanted. Now I have an address. Add me. to your address book. The book with addresses and emails. I have one now. You should hold on to that - that address is something special. We take it for granted. We don't think about it. It exists. The Home . . . less. aka no address. I was once 'aka' . . . in a former life? I want to meet everyone who was . . . Can I add you? to my address book once you have an address. That would be nice. Nice to have an address. A home. My home. My address. Add me. My name is . . .  

ForNever missed.

"Your name gages no references in my brain." She said. 

Friends move in motion and Family yields yesterday years.
I seed the chest burn as my forehead heavily weighs worry and 'way with words.'
Thought provoking words left me speechless yet relentless, less worried, though meekly pondering speeches.
Fingers hold the dial to all conversations vanished within minutes . . . 
Deeply, painfully panting lyrics to that 'love' song - I question.
No love now that we?
Separate ways - grow deep now, as age old days go by 15
I recall times in better like
Now you leave me better lone
I hurt like human anecdotes comparing lives in anger
I peep past pastures in digital media
I know those thoughts grew bad, made sad, grow deem too late, result: HATE.
I hate how words make memories cease as cold as the memories I ate
I didn't eat today, quite a stomach ache from the mosh pit messages designed for my fancy
Surprised at my upheaval
Balanced breath stabilizes through IT-TA-LY captivating my chaos
Missing moody laughter, focused fearful pain
(No! Where do I go? I don't want to do that - who do I know?)
Know me like this now? - no 'sealed with a kiss?'
I missed those opportunities to stop those 'disses.'
Come on now? Really? And it's me you see, not you, your dirty deeds play zero.
Fatality? Yeah right!
I calm IN collect don't bring up the battered bruises beaten by boundary
Cleansing thoughts keep cries from esteem walking to the exit line
I build my empire in my fragile human state
I seldom say to myself, love the art that you create! That makes up for mistakes???
. . . in this case - I art to 

MOVE - MIND mouth. 
---------


to be continued . . . 

EVOLe in that Common Cliche.

Love.

I've never had it. Though, I think I felt it once, maybe twice on that nice, loud train ride home . . . like the scene in a movie: girl staring out window, as train pulls over tracks. Thoughts ponder her head, eyes become glazed, tears fall like flowers fresh with morning dew.  It's when clear thought becomes no thought and forehead hills peak by, breath grows chafe and pause becomes numb. No sound seeps in, no one else around -  just you, the window, the train . . . pondering that 'love' thang. 

Love responds.
Love makes time. 
Love IS a trouble maker.
Love makes you think.
Love makes you react.
Love, on the 2 opposite ends of the spectrum SHOULD find commonality. 
Love NEVER lets you down.
Love turns your frown up-side down.
Love heals whats lost.
Love listens.
LOVE IS PRESENT. 

I question my love and what it has been. I question it all the time. When I bother it. I get ignored. 

I dream about it . . . Love. 
I wonder if it'll ever find me if I'm always up in my cherry tree? writing sonnets as winds billow by and stops when it hears me rustling.
  
No contact. No call. No, not at all. 

I go back to that embrace. I go back to that chase. I go back to that thought where I thought? It finally found my heart. But! It was crushed. It was frustrated. It hadn't even dated. 

Love was shared.
Love was tugged away.
Love made me stay up.
Love, Hate, Grown ups.
Love hit me hard.
Love just up and left?
Love never grew here at all.

I thought love helped me out. I also thought that quiet love would happen in this next lifetime. I always hoped I'd run into it, but nope, nope, nope, nope, nope! I shall not understand. 'I am ready for loooovvvve. Why are you hiding from me India.Arie.?' 

Family feud love. forgiveness?
Those Fallen angel princesses. 
Bitter battered boastful love.
A glove holds that mean, little snub.
Aching, yearning love.
Misdirected, a memory love. 
Sounds like that poet, Shihan: Type Love. 
Love that calmed my soul,
Not that love that gets - Oh So old! 

I would love to see ???

I've never had it. Though, I think I felt it once, maybe twice . . . 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hJZkBWBashA